


Find Me

by killipan-jones (from_a_bad_fairy)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Deleted Scenes, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 12:43:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1119955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/from_a_bad_fairy/pseuds/killipan-jones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It wasn’t that Killian hadn’t wished to see her on their last night in Storybrooke, the last night before Regina would attempt to reverse Pan’s curse and Emma would be separated from her family and friends forever.  He just hadn’t expected his wish to come true."</p><p>A “deleted scene” the night before Regina attempts to reverse Pan’s curse in 3x11.  Killian shows Emma what it would have been like if she had chosen him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Find Me

**Author's Note:**

> This work was my Secret Santa gift for tumblr user celticvampriss, and as such is dedicated to her.

 “You should be with your family, Princess.”

It wasn’t that Killian hadn’t wished to see her on their last night in Storybrooke, the last night before Regina would attempt to reverse Pan’s curse and Emma would be separated from her family and friends forever.  He just hadn’t expected his wish to come true.  From where he was standing she had been noticeably poised just a day ago to forget him in favor of her old lover, the father of her child—had Peter Pan’s destruction not come along and threatened their very lives.  Now she’d been robbed of the opportunity to seek happiness with either man (or perhaps relieved of the responsibility to make such a choice).  Nonetheless, between Neal and her parents, a pirate captain’s sleeping quarters was the last place he had expected her to turn up this night.

“My family can do without me for a little while,” Emma replied casually as she stepped apprehensively into his room.  She seemed to sense his questioning eyes on her as she began fiddling with the tattered table runner on his desk. 

“It’s too hard for me to say goodbye to them right now,” she admitted in a near whisper.

“And me?” Killian inquired as he stood to walk toward her.  “Is it easy for you to say goodbye to me?”

He knew it was a self-centered question.  Emma had more important things to think about right now than her ill-fated fling with a pirate.  He stopped just a little bit to close to her, forcing her to look up to speak to him.

“I still don’t know what I’m saying goodbye to,” she replied.

“If this curse had not transpired, you and I both know you would be standing right here in my cabin anyway.  You would just be saying your farewells for a different reason.”  It wasn’t meant to sound particularly bold or presumptuous.  Killian just wanted to walk into the next chapter of his life knowing for sure what it was he had lost.

Emma’s brow tightened in confusion.

“You think I chose Neal.”

“Was I wrong?”

“I didn’t chose anybody.”

Killian felt a slight tinge of embarrassment at his own attitude but turned away from her to cover it up.

“Where is your Neal right now, anyway?” he asked nonchalantly.  “I would imagine you would at least want to spend your last night here with the father of your child.  I’m sure you two have a lot to talk about.”

“I spent a year of my life with no one to talk to but Neal and the eleven years that followed thinking about every conversation the two of us ever shared.  I want to talk to _you_ now.”  Killian chanced a glance back at her to find her looking infinitely more vulnerable than he could have expected.  “I… I might never have the chance again.”

Killian was lost for words.  He could only walk back towards Emma and try find some sort of soothing phrase that might comfort her in the same way he’d been able to comfort her several times in Neverland.

“Am I doing the right thing?” she asked suddenly, moving to sit on his bed.  “Taking Henry and leaving?”

“I’m not sure you have any other choice, love.”

Emma sat and looked down at her folded hands in her lap.

“You need to think about what’s best for your son.”

“How am I supposed to decide what’s best for Henry if I don’t even know what’s best for me?”

They both knew she wasn’t just talking about escaping the curse anymore.  He’d thought about the possible ramifications their relationship might have on the boy on numerous occasions, but their relationship was so convoluted that somehow Henry was never spoken about much between them.  There were so many other concerns in the way.

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to keep my memories,” Emma said.  “After Regina reverses the curse.  She hasn’t told me as much yet, but I have a strong hunch about it.”  He could hear her voice threatening to break.

“You don’t think you’ll remember your parents,” he said.  It wasn’t a question; he was confident he could read her perfectly.  “Or Neal.  You won’t remember all the people you thought abandoned you coming back into your life.”  Suddenly Killian’s own considerations on the matter at hand felt more blaringly selfish than he’d even thought initially.  “You won’t remember being loved after all.”

“And I won’t remember you,” she finished as she looked up to meet his eyes.

“You’re afraid you’ll walk through your new life never knowing about much these people loved you.”

Emma opened her mouth to say something but seemed to think better of it, opting to look back down at her hands instead.  He took a seat next to her.

“Not a day will go by when I won’t think of you,” he whispered, perhaps against his better judgment.

“No,” Emma replied with a shake of her head as she stood up from the bed.  “Don’t do that.  Don’t do _this_.”

“Do what, exactly?”

“Tell me you’ll still want me even after I forget you ever existed.  I can’t let you carry that with you.  I’ve _been_ that person.  I’ve sat in the same city waiting for _years_ for someone I still loved when that person had already moved on to a life without me.”

“Emma,” he begged, “I don’t mean to…”

He did not finish his sentence because he wasn’t so sure himself of how it ended.

“Even if I get to keep my memories, there will still be so many questions,” Emma continued.  She crossed her arms protectively over her chest and walked along the cabin wall pretending to observe the various trinkets he’d gathered over many years visiting far off lands.  “It will be just like when I gave up Henry.  I’ve spent my entire life wondering what would have happened if I had made a different decision.”  She looked back at him.  “If circumstances had been different.”

“Perhaps you still have enough time to find out,” was Killian’s quiet reply.

“What do you mean?” Emma’s brow furrowed in feigned confusion but her eyes gave away her understanding.

 _I have nothing left to lose,_ he thought.

Killian picked up a lock of her golden hair and smoothed it out between his fingertips.  It was an incredibly intimate gesture that he knew she might have brushed away at any other time, too scared to let him in.  But everything would be gone tomorrow and tonight was all that was left.

“I want you, Swan,” he began.  “I think I always will.  Not just for a moment or for a night, but for as long as you would have let me be yours.”

She gave a sad smile, like the idea was warm and beautiful but (always) impossible.

“As fate would have it, tonight is all we have,” he continued. “But perhaps that is all we need to answer some of your questions.”

Emma gave him the same wry smile she’d given him upon his impish request for a kiss in Neverland.  “What questions?”

“Why are you really here, Swan?” he asked more seriously.  “I think you came here because you’re still curious what it would have been like.  To be mine.”

Emma’s eyes blew wide and she opened and shut her mouth several times in succession, but never got a word out response.

“You don’t have to walk off into a new life tomorrow wondering what it would have been like if you and Neal had rekindled your old flame.  You’ve been there before.  You’ve _experienced_ it… but me?  You have no idea.” He raised his chin a bit and knew Emma probably thought he looked far too proud of himself for figuring her out.

“I never made a decision,” Emma pleaded again.

“And you don’t have to,” he replied softly.  “You can walk into your next life with the comfort of knowing how many people simply _loved_ you.”

Her lack of reply was deafening but expected.  Killian quickly decided he could have no regrets for this night.

“But if you want to know—even though you may not remember it tomorrow—I can…”  Killian swiped a little lock of hair behind her ear.  “I can show you tonight.  What it would have been like if you chose me.”

“I…” Emma began, but failed.  “That wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“And why not, may I ask?”

“I probably won’t remember any of this.  You will.  You’ll have to live with the knowledge of everything that could have been.  But _I_ won’t have to live with regrets, one way or another.”  She shook her head and began to back out of the room. “I don’t have the right to ask for what you’re offering me.”

He caught her wrist as she turned to leave and pulled her into him.

“Aye, and I don’t have the right to ask for a princess,” he said softly.  “But I am asking for one all the same.”

The silence between them was by far the loudest Killian had ever experienced.  He felt himself draw in breath after tiny breath into his lungs but he never once exhaled.  Emma’s gray eyes, once the coolest steel against his heart, were now threatening to burn him alive from the inside if she kept looking at him _like that_.

She seemed to step towards him, although Killian couldn’t really be certain.  The entire room was spinning now and the centripetal acceleration was only forcing them closer and _of course_ she was moving toward him, the universe was going to crash them together before pulling them apart and she had no other option—

And then he was moving his good hand up to cradle the side of her head and she was leaning into it.  It was such an astoundingly intimate yet simple gesture that any and all self-control he still maintained was gone in a flash of golden hair.  His own uncontrollable urges suddenly terrified him to the bone and she needed to know what she was in for, she needed to know that he couldn’t hold back now, not when the morning sun would take her away from him forever without even a trace of his lips on her memory.

“ _Hold on to me, love_.” The whispered plea barely made it out alive underneath the dark husk of his voice.  He wasn’t sure if we as begging Emma to brace herself or if it was himself he was bracing instead.

“ _Ok_ ,” she whispered back, reaching a hand up to cover his in her hair.  Her consent meant a lot of things, it meant _permission_ , but it was the little smile she gave him (the very same smile she had given him in Neverland when he’d professed his certainty that she would find her son, the smile Emma always gave when she was finally feeling some semblance of _hope_ ) that made Killian absolutely _lose it._

This time when they kissed it was Killian who pulled her towards him.  He tied his hand in her long hair and let their lips hover over each other for a long moment, just feeling each other’s warm breath.

Emma was the one to break the moment and finally cover his mouth with her own.  It was sensual and languid and nothing like the first kiss they’d shared.  They took their time with each other’s lips as though they weren’t racing against a clock that seemed to be speeding towards unhappy endings. 

In a sudden move Killian bit down on Emma’s lower lip.  When she gasped in surprise, he snagged her moment of vulnerability to wind his right arm beneath her knees and swiftly gather her into his arms.  She yelped at the unexpected movement and the whole thing was probably too cliché, but it was also everything Emma needed to know right now— _I would have held you.  I would have cherished you.  I would have taken care of you until the end of our days._

As it were, the end of their days together was to come the very next morning and Killian could make good on his silent promise after all.

Before Emma could formally protest his dramatic gesture Killian carried her to the bed and set her down on the cool, soft sheets (a luxury item from an exotic port in a far off realm).  He did so just gently enough to show his care and appreciation but brusquely enough to let her know what she was in for.  He would be careful with her when she wanted it, but _by the gods_ —he would be rough with her when she _needed_ it.

“I’m going to strip you bare now, Emma,” he whispered hotly against her cheek.  She shuddered involuntary beneath him and he darted his tongue out to lick her swollen lips once more.  The spicy taste elicited an unexpected moan from deep in his own chest.  “You are _delicious_.”

_I would have savored you._

Emma seemed to take a moment to gather her composure.  He saw her eyes growing darker and darker when she looked up at him through heavy lashes.

“Well?” she challenged.  “I haven't got all day, pirate.”

Killian couldn’t stop himself from brushing another kiss against her lips as he moved his hand up under her sweater and fanned his fingertips out over the warm skin of her stomach.  His hand crept up slowly towards her breasts before he abruptly stopped and pulled it out of her shirt, earning a frustrated groan from Emma.  Killian grinned at the effect he was already having on her.

He shocked Emma once again by wrapping his right arm around her waist and rolling her on top of him, situating her in a straddle of clothed thighs across his waist.  He hastily removed her jacket and sweater (he really had meant to take it slow, but _god damn, this was Emma Swan)_.  Killian stopped for a moment to admire the odd lacey brazier he encountered, but his appreciation for the garment quickly waned once he could not ascertain the proper way to remove it.  Emma gave a breathy giggle at his troubles but it was pure music to his ears.  He was always ecstatic to make her smile, even if it meant making a fool of himself.

_I would have laughed with you every day._

Emma helped him with the bra and Killian sat up, holding her body securely in his lap as he drowned in the pleasure of being eye level with her perfect breasts.  He closed his eyes and laved his tongue over one dusky pink nipple. Emma’s breath audibly caught in her throat.  The barely-there sound was a shot of electricity though his spine and when he ground her hips down into his lap Killian thought his grasp on her waist might have been hard enough to bruise.

He rolled her onto her back again and transferred his attention to her other breast while his good hand worked at her bottoms.  Emma kicked off her boots and he pulled her tight denims down in one deft movement.  She was left in nothing but her underwear, but when he moved to remove those as well Emma stilled his hand with a shake of her head.

“Nuh-uh, Captain,” she stopped him with a little wink.  “You can’t have these until I get a little more of _you_.”

Killian’s brief moment of panic that she might reject him subsided and he allowed her to free him of his tunic.  Upon removing his trousers Emma ran a teasing hand over his length, which had grown firm and flushed the moment their lips had first touched what seemed like hours ago.

When Emma’s panties were finally gone and they had both bared almost every inch of skin there was to offer, Killian gestured for her to lay back on the bed so he could finally take her in.  He was not ready for what he saw.  Killian had loved the body of every woman he’d ever been with, honestly, but Emma Swan was _so much more_ than he could have possibly prepared himself for. 

“ _My god, woman,”_ he whispered.  He splayed his hands across the small crease between her thigh and hip and ran the cool back of his hook from her neck down to her navel.  Emma caught it under the curl of a finger and pulled it toward her. 

“Take it off?” she requested quietly. Her gaze was sincere.  “If you’re going to show me you, show me all of you.”

In all his years as a less-than-virtuous pirate, this was not a request Killian generally received from the women he bedded.  In the rare times the hook was not a part of him he’d always made due with a gloved wooden hand.  But here?  He had Emma Swan completely bared before him, bared _for_ him, and he was happy to grant her every request.

_I would have done anything for you._

He held his left arm out for her and allowed her to carefully remove the hook and brace.  Killian waited for her to cringe at the sight (it had been a clean cut to be sure, but none of the scars on his body—inside or out—were particularly pleasing to behold). But Emma did not recoil.  Instead, she ran a soft-skinned hand over the dark scar tissue and placed a chaste kiss on his forearm.  It was the first thing he had experienced that truly resembled a gesture of love since Milah had died.

To silence the too-many-too-soon-too-much-too-late words that threatened to pour from his mouth, Killian lowered himself to his knees and abruptly pulled Emma by her waist towards the edge of the bed. 

“ _Oh my god,_ ” he heard her whisper as he lowered his mouth to kiss the inside of her silky thighs.  Killian let his warm breath linger over her core and _fuck,_ he could actually _see_ how ready she was for him. 

His true intention had been to tease her until she begged for him but the sight in front of his eyes and the voice in his ears and the warmth so close to his lips was too much for him to resist.  Killian sunk his lips into her flushed folds and for a moment he thought the delectable heat might actually burn his tongue.  Emma’s hips bucked into his face and he caught her, keeping her tight against him and using his other arm to urge her legs up onto his shoulders.  She leaned up on her elbows to watch but her head dropped back again when he swiped his tongue against the hot bundle of nerves at her center again-- and again and again.  She groaned and Killian wasn’t sure how it could get more perfect that this—Emma’s sounds of approval in the air and her legs wrapped around his neck and the taste of princess on his tongue.

_I would have worshipped you._

When he slipped his fingers inside her slick passage and immediately curved them upward Emma moaned so loudly he swore any fisherman still on the docks could have heard it.  The intensity of the feeling seemed to overtake her and she bolted upright before removing her thighs from his shoulders and pulling him upward onto the bed.  The cool air of the cabin passed over Killian’s face and he savored the chill when it breezed over his soaked chin.  When Emma took in the state of him, her expression was the most scandalized and aroused he’d seen it yet.  She swiped a thumb over his wet jawline and released a shuddering breath.

“Come here,” she whispered low in her throat.  Killian could only comply.

When he climbed between her legs Emma reached out a hand to wrap around him, taking a change to surprise him for once.  He let out a low string of completely nonsensical curses that elicited another small laugh from Emma.  She massaged him up and down impossibly slowly, stopping now and again to lightly run her fingernails over the sensitive skin.

“Emma—” he could barely choke out.  “I—you have to stop that. I want this to count."

Emma seemed to enjoy the sudden control she’d acquired through only a few simple touches but nonetheless heeded his request to withdraw her hand.  Killian was relieved; he’d be damned if the one and only time he got to make love to Emma Swan was over in a flash before he disappeared from her memory even quicker.

Killian led one of Emma’s thighs to wrap around his waist and he gingerly positioned himself in place.  After watching Emma brace herself in anticipation, he instead grasped himself and began the swollen head against the same slippery bundle of nerves he’d been lavishing with his tongue just moments ago.  Emma moaned shamelessly and wrapped her other leg around his waist, hoisting her entire body upwards toward the blissful sensation.

 _Fuck_ , he wasn’t even inside of her yet and the wet heat was already threatening to shatter him.

“Please,” Emma pleaded softly.  “Show me.  Like you promised.”

With that irresistible request Killian moved himself downward and began to push in, but Emma’s hand on his shoulder stopped him just short.

“But start a little slow,” she added with an uncharacteristically shy smile. “It’s… it’s been a while for me.”

“My dear,” Killian replied with a sly smile and a heated brush of lips against the shell of her ear, “I would never dream of doing anything else but taking my time on you.”

He took his first movements slow not just per her request, but also to soak up very hot inch of her as her body sheathed him and blazing skin and muscle seared itself onto his brain permanently.  The initial push in would have destroyed him completely if it hadn’t been for Emma’s eyes on locked on him, anchoring him to reality.

Once he was completely inside her, buried to the hilt, Emma’s eyelids seemed to battle against falling shut but she kept them open—she kept them on him.  She raised one surprisingly steady hand to trace her fingertips softly across his bottom lip.

The haze of erotic sensation cleared for a moment and Killian became aware of every little detail of his surroundings—the creak of the Jolly Roger as she rocked in port, the humid warmth of Emma’s breath on his neck, the fading light as the lantern’s oil waned.  His mind was so silent for a moment that his ears filled with static as he looked down at the one person in any realm who was (would always be) more precious to him than any other.

“I love you, Emma Swan.”

Emma’s eyes did not widen in shock like he expected them to at his bold—and admittedly unplanned—declaration.  Instead she reached a hand up into his hair, pulling him down into a tender kiss.

“Thank you for this,” she whispered against his lips when they parted.  Her hips rose up to pull him deeper, which he hadn’t thought possible.  “Now move,” she ordered.

Killian grinned.

“As you wish, milady.”

He set out finding a rhythm that was perfect for them both—slow and steady and languid but punctuated with sharp upward thrusts designed to make her shout and cling to him.  Every now and again he would change it up, sitting back on his haunches and pulling Emma up into his lap, or perhaps lying behind her and tucking one of her thighs towards her stomach, using the leverage to get deeper and deeper with every thrust.  But they would always eventually end up back in the same place: Killian above Emma with his bad arm wrapped beneath her waist, pulling her close to him as their sweating skin slid slippery against one another.  Their bodies buzzed and glowed and heated and cooled as if they were made from stardust.

Killian eventually began to exhaust himself and was forced to face the inevitable truth that this could not go on forever.  He settled into a steady pace and angle expertly crafted to bring Emma to her precipice.  Her impossibly erotic gentle whines became progressively higher pitched and breathier. 

Just when he was preparing to pick up the pace a final time and push her over into bliss Emma caught his neck and pulled him down, pushing their foreheads together.  She then whispered something that, in the moment, Killian could neither truly hear nor comprehend, but the sound of her breathless request would endlessly echo around his brain for a year to come.

But for now Killian could not afford to focus on those words.  He could do nothing but hold Emma Swan in his arms as she fell over the edge, and he tumbled through soothing darkness and the fog of sensation and stardust when he followed her in.

—-

_“Not a day will go by when I won’t think of you.”_

_“Good.”_

_—-_

The grief of losing their beloved daughter for the second time in their young lives left the king and queen immensely lonely upon their return to the Enchanted Forest.  They asked many of the good friends they had made during their time in Storybrooke to stay close to the royal court—even Captain Hook himself.

Killian was made fleet admiral of the small royal navy as a show of Charming and Snow’s appreciation for his help on their Neverland mission.  The title was more for show than anything, but it meant a lot to Killian that he had earned such a degree of trust from the parents of the women he’d loved (the woman he still _loved_ , even now).

It had been no easy adjustment for anyone.  Most everyone except for him had been away from the land in which they were born for the past twenty-seven years.  Killian had escaped the Evil Queen’s curse, but he’d been a very different man during that time.  Hell, he’d been a different man even a _month_ ago.  Everything had changed when he’d met the Savior of Storybrooke, and now she was out of his grasp forever.  Emma had given his life new purpose but now he felt lifeless and useless, like the captain of a ship stripped of its sails.

Life begrudgingly marched on for everyone but Killian.  During his days he would tend to small matters, usually requested by Charming (who, though Killian never would admit it openly, was a king he could finally be proud to serve).  At night, he thought of Emma. 

He thought of her long eyelashes against her cheek.

He thought of the way she looked stretched out beneath him on his bed. 

He thought of the way she smiled shyly when receiving praise.

But most of all, his mind dwelled in circles on the three little words she had whispered into his hair in the throes of ecstasy.  They’d been lost on him at the time but now they rung in his ears as though Emma had only just said them.  He heard them in his dreams, he heard them in his every waking thought.  The words only became louder and clearer as time passed.

Killian knew he was going mad.

And then the witch woman from the West flew into the citadel with her green skin and flashing red hair and everything changed.  When it became clear the Savior was once again the only one who could save them, the Fairies hid themselves away and spent months searching for the impossible—a new way to cross realms.

It was a Tuesday morning when Killian received word that the king and queen had requested his presence in the castle.  When he arrived they both looked even more tired than when he usually saw them; the tyranny and destruction of the Wicked Witch was certainly taking a toll on them.

“Jones!” Charming smiled and brightened a bit when he saw him.  He strode forward and gave Killian a warm pat of the shoulder.  “Thank you for coming.”

“Aye,” Killian replied with a small nod of the head.  He couldn’t deny that it felt good to be back in familiar company.  “How can I be of service, mate?”

“We need your help,” Charming said.  “The Fairies… They’ve found a way to get to Emma.”

For a long moment Killian was absolutely still.  His ears could not trust what they had heard.  It was an impossible wish come true, and he was completely convinced that he was dreaming until Charming laid a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“Tell me what I can do.”

—-

Charming ordered for his best horse to be readied for Killian’s journey.  The Fairies had identified a way for someone to cross the realms and make exactly one return trip—and they only had one chance at it.  The king and queen could not leave their kingdom in a time of such chaos and despair.  In their place, they asked Killian to be the one to bring Emma home.

His mission would be a long shot; that much was certain.  He could read the anxiety on Emma’s parents’ faces as he settled into his saddle and said his goodbyes.  Getting Emma to believe that the past eleven years of her memory was a lie seemed like a nearly impossible task for anyone. Killian had no tools in his arsenal to convince her of his verity other than the faintest trace of her kiss on his lips and the memory of a night that never existed for her.

But as he rode towards his destination Emma’s three little words again rang through his head.  Their clarity was unprecedented. Instead of driving him mad, they now gave him focus and purpose.

_“Find me, Killian.”_


End file.
